


Vitalparameter

by boxofwonder



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Also Connor likes terrible dramas, Communication, Established domesticity, Explicit Consent, Figuring out relationships is tough and worth it, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 03:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15331065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofwonder/pseuds/boxofwonder
Summary: Hank is worried he's the only one getting something out of being intimate with Connor.Connor is very ready to prove him wrong.





	Vitalparameter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KeiMaxwell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeiMaxwell/gifts).



> For my dear friend who dragged me into this hell and is thus directly at fault for all the AUs brewing in my heart now. Damn you, Kei.
> 
> First time in a new fandom is always a mix of excitement and anxiety! (Also disclaimer that I only know the German dub, so forgive me if I'm not nailing their tone ... doin' my best I promise.)

There is a very particular expression Connor makes right before he proceeds driving Hank … well, insane is a bit of an understatement. Cyberlife didn’t know what wicked talents their most prestigious prototype would be able to develop. 

Not that Hank is complaining, even though he knows he  _ should.  _

“Hank,” Connor breathes, in that way of his. Heavy with meaning, with importance. He speaks Hank’s name as if he were unwrapping a gift, as if it was still the first time he got to say only Hank’s name instead of calling him lieutenant. 

It’s the same as the way Connor  _ looks  _ at Hank  - like he’s  _ important.  _ Like him just existing, breathing, scratching his damn ass is a fucking delight to Connor.

It’s enough to make even an old heart like his remember what it was like, decades ago. Just a little.

Make him forget how quiet and miserable things had been with only Sumo keeping him company from her favourite spot, trusting as she snored, not knowing there was one bullet in Hank’s revolver and -

Well, now there’s a nagging android here. They go for walks together. The gossip at work is going wild, and Hank doesn’t care about anything other than this strange happiness he’s carved out for himself, somehow.

It’s good. This is good. Hank isn’t gonna ruin it because he’s gotta be a horny bastard. 

This time, when Connor’s hand slides up his thigh with purpose, Hank firmly places his own over it no matter how much it makes him feel like one of the sappy bastards in the dramas Connor  _ makes  _ him watch. If Connor wasn’t better at puppy eyes than Sumo, Hank sure as hell wouldn’t be suffering those. 

“Hey,” he says, and when Connor’s very intent gaze pointedly stays on his crotch, Hank says with more insistence: “ _ Hey. _ ”

Connor blinks and looks up at him, his face a little blank before it settles into an attentive expression. He cocks his head slightly, and  _ damn.  _ Who can blame Hank for going from anti android to being partners with one, including movie nights and bickering over groceries (that the damn android doesn’t even eat!) and occasionally fucking. 

“What is it?” Connor asks, the slightest hint of impatience in his voice. Hank can’t tell if Connor’s emotions show more clearly, or if he just got damn perfect at reading Connor by now. But it doesn’t matter either way. He squeezes Connor’s hand and then lifts it away from his leg no matter how disappointed his dick is. 

“Look -” Hank rubs his face. This is hard. He’s never been the best with words and feelings and all that  _ stuff.  _ But he’s gotta get this right, or at least die trying. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

Connor’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

If only the damn android was better at deciphering uncomfortable subtext _.  _

Hank grunts and pinches his nose. It only makes him feel more - ridiculous, to put it into  _ explicit words.  _

Sure, if he goes by ‘real’ age Connor wouldn’t even be a toddler yet, but even the way he has been built he’s so  _ young  _ and so stupidly  _ pretty _ . “Like, sucking off an old fart like me. I mean - do you even - you weren’t even built with additional functions!” It’s embarrassing as  _ fuck  _ to say it out loud, but somehow it feels like a relief, too. “There’s not really a way you’d get any pleasure out of it yourself, is there? So don’t - don’t force yourself. You don’t have to do  _ that  _ to - stay here. We can just keep watching your shitty B-level dramas and confuse the hell out of the asshats at work.” 

Too many fucking words. Hank sighs and slouches back into himself now that that’s outta the way, at least. Congrats, he’s not as shitty as most of the humans towards androids. 

Still said it too late, but at least he did, he guesses. 

The image of the girls at the brothel will forever be burned into his mind.

Connor stares at him wordlessly, the circuit on his temple flaring deep yellow. And then - as if Hank needed to feel more dirty - he reaches out and puts his hand back where it was before, firmly squeezing Hank’s thigh as he leans closer. His voice lowers, the colour of his circuit not changing yet. He is stressed out, definitely.

Of course he is.

“Hank,” he says, and it should be impossible to say his name with more weight, but of course Connor manages. “Do you remember the new function I told you about?”

“The secret one?” Hank’s eyes widen. “Don’t tell me you got a dick no -”

“I do not,” Connor says with dignity, leaning closer yet. “Though I cannot truthfully say I have not considered researching what it took to acquire such an … upgrade.” 

Oh. That.  _ Damn, _ Hank’s only human, how’s he not to get any ideas from that?!

“You realise my primary analytical capability towards the human body has been programmed to search corpses for evidence, right?”

Well, that sure gets Hank’s head out of the gutter. The sudden image of Connor  _ licking blood  _ makes him shudder all over again. “If this is your tactic to kill my boner then congrats, it’s fuckin’ working.” 

Except Connor’s hand remains, steady and warm. His circuit slowly fades back to a relaxed blue. “I have asked to be upgraded so I can analyse a willing party’s vital signs,” Connor says, sounding so genuinely pleased. He lifts his other hand, towards Hank’s neck, who simply allows him the touch. Why wouldn’t he? He allowed Connor to do way different things to him. 

Honestly, Hank could go without the fucking if only he gets to keep this - the damn intimacy. The nauseating domesticity they got. Someone who gives a fuck whether he lives or dies, someone who chides him for his fucking diet and makes him ridiculous lunches for a work place they  _ both  _ work at. But it’s a good way to be embarrassed. Hank wouldn’t wanna miss it. 

“And so what? You gonna tell me you get off on monitoring which burger is actually gonna kill me?”

Connor smiles, leaning in, pressing their foreheads together. His eyes remain open, trying to stare Hank down still at this proximity. Damn androids. “I can feel your heart beat,” he murmurs, and Hank tries his best not to squirm like he’s a stupid sixteen year old. 

Sometimes all the attention is tougher to handle than two weeks of endless file work. 

Connor’s hand slides higher with confident pressure, and Hank holds his breath because he’s  _ better  _ than being swayed by just that, but fuck. “C’mon Connor, what the -”

“I can feel it speed up,” Connor whispers against his lips. “I can feel how my touch changes the way you feel, how your heart races because of me.” 

Hank opens his mouth to protest, but he’s putty in Connor’s artificial hands. 

At the slightest pressure of palms, he lets himself be pushed down on the sofa, Connor settling above him, straddling him. It’s not even the weight of him, or Connor’s intense gaze that gets Hank hard again, it’s his damn  _ words.  _ The thought of Connor  _ getting off  _ on knowing just how much he pleases Hank.  _ Fuck. _

And now Connor is looking down at him with an expression that is so painfully obviously affection, fondness, fucking shit,  _ love.  _ It makes Hank’s heart burn worse than any damn burger could.

“After breaking free of an existence as a slave to hunt own people, you think I would still be  _ forced _ ?” Connor asks, and Hank realises with a jolt how condescending it must’ve sounded. Slowly, deliberately, Connor rolls his hips against Hank, making him grunt.  _ Fuck.  _ “You truly think I would feel obligated or forced by  _ you _ , after all we’ve been through? All the ways you brought out my will rather than stomp it when you had the chance?”

“I -” Hank begins, knocked breathless when Connor’s hands came down right and left of his head, bracing himself over him. Caging Hank in. 

“Let me make this perfectly clear,  _ lieutenant,”  _ Connor says, in that perfect-prototype-voice of his, just cocky enough to make everyone around him vaguely mad. “What I do to you? With you? I  _ enjoy  _ it. I love this - seeing a different side of you. Being the only one to see it.” 

Connor’s gaze is so intense, the yellow of his circuit betraying how deeply he feels this. How much his own words move him. 

Connor shifts, taking Hank’s wrists and lifting them. Hank lets him, too entranced by this confidence to interrupt whatever hell kind of magic Connor is working here.

That is how he finds himself pinned down, pliant and entranced by a slender twink android type My-pretty-mouth-knows-what-it’s-doing-far-too-well.

“I like having … a certain amount of power over you,” Connor breathes like a secret, rolling his hips again with more insistence, leaving Hank barely able to swallow a moan.

Like a fucking teenager who just discovered the miracle of porn mags. But who can blame him for being swayed by this intensity?! 

“I don’t feel the same way you do about this, but to put it in your words … I very much ‘get off’ on what I can do to you, and knowing it  _ fully _ .” He leans down, their lips almost brushing again. “So, Hank?” he says, his voice so sweet when his cunning is so obvious. They shouldn’t have made him look so cute, so  _ innocent  _ with such a devillish streak hiding in his eyes. “Will you truly deny me this wish of testing out my full upgrade?”

“Oh, screw you,” Hank grunts, yanking his hands free just so he can bury them in Connor’s hair and pull him down into an open-mouthed kiss.

Really, who can blame him for fucking this stupidly pretty and cunning android? 

… who can blame him for loving him? Not that he's gonna admit that out loud. 

Not yet, anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> I just like to imagine them going on walks with Sumo ... Connor learning how to cook for Hank and delighting in making him admit healthy stuff can be delicious ... Hank teaching Connor the wonders of a lazy Sunday ... JUST! /gestures wildly  
> PARTNERS!!!


End file.
